


time is relative

by SaltyKumquats



Series: Psyche Proclaimed [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Character Death, Gen, Rule 63
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-10
Updated: 2011-03-10
Packaged: 2018-02-14 16:15:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2198436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaltyKumquats/pseuds/SaltyKumquats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Suddenly it hits her - <i>really</i> hits her that for the first time in her life, <i>she wasn't fast enough.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	time is relative

It takes only a moment.

Depending on how you look at it anyway.

Time is relative after all.

(The first time she felt like a second was the same as forever would be when, years ago, she watched a meteor descend from the skies, bearing a responsibility ~~a _treasure_~~ she wasn't sure she was ready for. But she had to be.)

 

 

Jack meets the combined efforts of both Striders with a fierce snarl and the rebounding force of the clash sends them all back some distance, initiating one of those briefest of intervals before they're at it again. The air is thick and heavy from the heat and smoke, but for all their fighting, she's barely even sweating as she watches their opponent for his next move and continues maintaining Lil' Cal's stance.

She spares a glance at Dave (Davesprite, it doesn't matter) hovering a few paces away, trying to appear nonplussed but he can't fool her. After all, she raised and trained him: she notes how taut his arms are as he holds his sword at the ready and the slight crease in his brow - and new things too, like the way the feathers around his neck and shoulders are ruffled and the subtle way his wings are circling around himself. All signs practically screaming to her how nervous he is. How scared.

Looking at him, there's a small ache in her heart. _Can't really blame him._

Her gaze shifts back to Jack.

And everything changes.

There's a sudden roaring in her ears, rising from a resonating rumble to a sharp crack of thunder that shakes her to her core. The air around them lights up as though lightning has struck the plateau - no, struck _Jack_ \- and when it finally clears, reveals that the ridiculous mishmash of his prototyped form has melted away into a lupine face and a figure that is overall far more predatory than it had been seconds before. The fire plaguing the land now burns the same colour as his new, slicker wings of radioactive green.

She leans forward on the balls of her feet, ready to spring--

_flash **BOOM**_

\--She's _startled_ and then, with horror, she _knows_ and whips around to see a flurry of orange feathers and suddenly it hits her - _really_ hits her that for the first time in her life, _she wasn't fast enough_.

Something inside her shatters and cries out _**NO**_ ; on the outside, there's nothing more than a tightening of her jaw and a hardened glint in her eyes as she makes her move, forgetting Lil' Cal for once in favour of cold, hard steel. But she's barely taken a step, sword in mid-swing, when there's another crack of thunder, another blinding flash and she _only just_ has enough time to bring her blade up to parry the oncoming blow. The force of it is enough to leave her arm stinging and rebounding back wildly - too uncontrolled to do anything about the next strike when it comes just as fast and powerful. Jack's fist actually knocks the wind out of her lungs and her off her feet, dislodging her cap, and her sword starts to slip from her grasp.

In the next instance, it's gone from her hand and she's _slammed_ to the ground, her head snapping back and her whole body shuddering on impact. Her senses are left reeling but she knows something is wrong - the phantom pain from her dreams is back only it's a hundred times more intense than ever and she realises that it's not phantom pain anymore, it's _real_ and like fire eating at her nerves because there's her sword, sticking out just beneath her ribcage and pinning her to the floor and her blood everywhere, so red ( _red like their eyes_ ) against the green flames, and it's then she knows: it's over.

Even so, that _smug bastard_ is hovering over her and it's seeing that thin smile, stark white against all that black and green, that makes her want to rise up and fucking sock him in the muzzle or spit in his face or _something_ but she _can't move_. He's sheathed his own sword, dripping red ( _and it's not her blood on it_ ), into his chest and he closes his hand on the handle of hers. She meets his gaze defiantly, letting her rage consume any spark of helplessness, but there's that feral grin again and instead of pulling the sword out, he pushes down and _**twists**_ and she just about bites her tongue off as the pain _**explodes**_ in her side and it's all she can do to not scream ( _because she refuses to give him the satisfaction_ ) even as she claws at the ground so hard her fingers tear and she starts to taste the tang of blood in her mouth.

Then a feather that isn't blindingly green floats past her vision and suddenly the black and white spots in her eyes are replaced by _red_ and _orange_ because Dave, her little bro - it doesn't matter that the Alpha was safe ( _it does, of course it does_ ), it doesn't matter that this one was partly a construct of the game and was never meant to survive anyway, he was still _her little brother_ and responsibility and _what did you do to him you **fucker**_ , it was supposed to just be _her_ , _this was supposed to be **her** death not his_ , why him, why any of this _stupid, fucked up bullshit_ , Dave _Dave **Dave** I'm sorry_ \--

_Wait._

Jack reaches down to take her shades, but even as she's glaring daggers into that fucking dogface and can see his mouth moving, she has no idea what he's saying because she's suddenly aware of a tinny sound in her ears and it takes all her concentration to _focus_ through the pain and rage and sorrow.

** sis **

Just that one word is enough to slice through the panic, because the voice that spoke it sounds so small and broken and ultimately _more important_ than the intense green light now assaulting her eyes or even Jack. She barely registers when he nonchalantly picks up Cal and flies off - all at once the cool, calm, collected big sister again as she puts all her effort into scanning what she can of the plateau for a familiar orange figure, blood seeping unbidden from the corners of her lips all the while. She tries calling out only to end up coughing instead (the red spray it produces is almost sickeningly fascinating) and the action drains her so completely she can no longer keep up her search and merely lies there, staring up at the fireflies trapped in the sky and feeling much the same.

She doesn't know how long she stays like this, each ragged breath bringing a fresh wave of agony, but her resurfacing worries fade when she thinks she hears a rustle of feathers and then there's a light touch on her hand, as though made by ghostly fingers. She grasps immediately for Dave ~~sprite~~ but finds her own fingers curling around nothing more than another orange feather, which she brings level to her eyes, summoning the last of her strength just to perform such a small, simple task.

sis

There. She can still feel him, however faintly.

s i s

Feeling a breeze brushing at her brow, she closes her hand to prevent the feather from being born away and manages a smile, probably the most sincere she has ever given anyone.

_I'm here, little bro. I'm right here._

As she closes her eyes, she wonders if she's imagining that familiar rhythm of running feet ...


End file.
